The Sound of Silence
by J e l l o - J u m p e r
Summary: After the death of their father, two siblings of the Land of Wind find themselves within the confines of Sunagakure's walls. Will Hitori ever find her way in the world?
1. oo : Storm

The sun scorched its desert cruelly, allowing not even the wind to provide comfort in the dry terrain—this breeze was reduced to a scratchy, burning blaze of sandy confusion. Still, a single desert-dweller seemed confident in the direction of his treading among the barren lands, looking sternly forward through the storm of dust as he traversed over a particularly large dune. A small girl bundled in shawls and scarves clung desperately to his side.

"Anii?" the girl whimpered meekly. His grip on her small hand tightened as they braced for the next onslaught of winds.

-o-

"We've been expecting you." There was little emotion in the shinobi's voice as he ushered the two siblings away from the exposure of the desert storm and through a large passageway within the solid walls of Sunagakure.

The two looked briefly into one another's eyes. "Anii?" the small one questioned once more. Her brother merely nodded from behind his hood—the color of sandstone—and they followed silently behind.


	2. Clock

"You must be Tatsu's children."

Both of the siblings drew back at the mention of their father's name. The elder blinked harshly and turned his gaze away, and the younger crinkled into herself and the comfort of her brother. The room was silent, save for the minor echo of footfalls coming from elsewhere in the large building, and the ticking of a heavy grandfather clock.

Tick. The three flinched. Tock. The boy cleared his throat.

Tick. The three flinched. Tock. The girl stifled a whimper.

Tick. The three flinched. Tock. They all stared.

.

.

.


	3. Meeting

Elder brother straightened himself. He pulled back his hood: calm features, clean-cut ebony locks. His brown eyes glazed as he spoke and his words were guided by an air of dreary rehearsal. "Yeah. My name is Kuroi, and this is my sister Hitori," he glanced reassuringly to the shivering child and her wide chocolate eyes, despite his own heart hitching in his throat.

"My name is Baki. I was a friend of your father's," spoke the man who had greeted them. Then, as an afterthought, "He was a good man." Because with death comes the formality of grievances and condolences, even in Suna.


	4. Troubles

Baki stirred behind the cloth that draped over one side of his face. He was wary of the stares of the two children, concerned he'd spoken the wrong words in their presence (after all, he and most of Suna's forces were untrained in the art of sympathy; Baki himself had spoken at too many funerals to count on his calloused fingers, but still his knowledge of the right words was lacking—generally speaking, he concerned himself more with the shut-up-suck-up-grow-up kind of words).

Baki's gruff voice poked through the continued silence of his own thoughts: "Given Tatsu's—" Baki corrected himself quickly, "—_your father's_ past position, the council has taken interest in your safety and lodging. From now on, you'll be staying with me. Your things should be here by the end of the week."

Silence.

It overwhelmed the room, that utter lack of sound. How first can a room be stuffed with forceful words, that then it be stripped bare?

.

.

.

"What?" Hardly above a whisper. "We came so that we could _keep_ our home."

Baki detected a hint of rebellion in Kuroi's voice, something not at all acceptable in Suna. Something which would be crushed after his first week in the Academy, if he knew what was good for him. "Oashisu Village is no place for two children on their own. The council simply finds it safer for you both to be here rather than there."

Kuroi shook his head and muttered flatly, "It's our _home_."

"…Your house will stand were it is until you come of age, should you still wish to return or sell it. Until then, though, _home is with me_."

.

.

.

Slowly, carefully, the small girl named Hitori brought her face out of the folds of her brother's clothing, turned to this 'Baki', and blinked owlishly.

Tick. She flinched. Tock.


	5. Welcome

The two siblings stood in the doorway of the dreary Suna apartment. It was one of a thousand others, they were sure. Baki turned on his heels and introduced the room as the living room. He pointed the way to the restroom and gestured towards the kitchen, showed the path to his room and explained that their rooms were up the stairs; their things would be delivered in a few days.

The siblings swallowed a gulp of stale air. The living room was comprised of a pair of old beaver brown couches, a dusty coffee table piled high with books and folders, and a worn rug with prehistoric designs. It connected with the kitchen and dining room, separated only by counters. The refrigerator was ancient, gigantic, and buzzed and moaned at odd intervals. The so-called dining room was nothing but a cheap table surrounded by three simple chairs. Kuroi's lips twisted in disgust when he noticed a few cheaply-bought bento boxes of molding food. The fumes were practically visible.

.

.

.

"I'll give you both time to settle into your rooms."


	6. God

Kuroi shed a layer of his protective garments, revealing a rather traditional dusty wrap-over and shinobi pants. He exhaled a lengthy, exhausted breath and practically collapsed on his bed. The mattress was too thin, the sheets were too white, the pillows were too stiff. The room was too sterile, too dark, too empty. Not his. Kuroi fell forward, allowing his elbows to rest on his knees and his face in his hands.

"God," he muttered. "Oh god."

Kuroi shook his head and prayed to a god he didn't believe in that this was all a bad dream.

.

.

.


	7. Memories

Hitori swallowed. She glanced at the closed door to her new room and envisioned it open and filled with the smiling faces of her parents. Her memories of her family completely together were few, but she could recall the times when they would tuck her snuggly into her blankets and wish her good night. She remembered her mother watering flowers and wondering how green a thumb one needed to create life in the desert. She remembered her father coming home after missions and how tightly they held him when they hadn't seen him in so long. She remembered when Kuroi would come running with the neighbor boy and they'd yell news of the scarab mound that just erupted and mother would look up from her flowers and laugh at how boys were and father would smile the way he always did like he remembered what it was like when he was Kuroi's age.

Hitori cherished her memories, but even as she stood in the middle of that room that was not hers, she could feel her parents fading. And of all the things which frightened her, it was this which she feared most.

.

.

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	8. A Promise

Baki stared into the folder, the pictures within staring back at him. Tatsu. Tatsu, his friend. Tatsu, his comrade. Tatsu, who had given his life for his country.

Tatsu, who was never the same after he buried his wife, but smiled whenever he saw her in his children.

Baki, who made a promise.

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.

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	9. o1 : Beginning

**Author's Note**: Ah, I'm tired of those little 'drabble' chapters, aren't you? They used to be one whole chapter, but I liked the sound of them on their own (ie: didn't know how to fix the original chapter so I made it many. Derp. :U)

In summary, Hitori and Kuroi are siblings. Kuroi is the older brother and Hitori is the younger sister, and they've crossed the deserts of their Land of Wind to reach Suna after the death of their father. Baki, who was a friend of their father, takes the two into his home as their new guardian. (Tell me please if this was unclear from the previous chapters; I appreciate every critique because it helps me improve my writing. :v )

**Disclaimer**: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

-o-

The three strode silently through the dusty streets of Sunagakure, the Hidden Village of the Land of Wind. It was quiet and nearly vacant where they were—the two children lost in a maze of sandy, rocky, lonely streets; beehive buildings with icy, earthen walls—but on the grainy breeze were the faint sounds of a distant market district: the buzz of gossip and haggling and the sizzle of various foods, along with an ever-present shuffling of sand. Baki was unfazed. For him this was home. For his new children (oh, the glint in a father's eyes when he looks down on his child for the first time in his arms; Baki's eyes were dull and piercing) this was foreign and fearsome. For them, home was the silence of a quiet desert, the soft breeze through a palm tree, the relief of the cool waters of an oasis, the smile of neighbors and family and laughter and congratulations and we missed you. None of these things were in Suna.

Baki's eyes rolled cautiously over the two children who trailed behind him. The elder, Kuroi, had seemed a mild sort as first. Yet time told that his broad shoulders had carried too much, stood too still; the boy was one to burst (held things in too much, you see), and such unpredictability was never good for a shinobi—strength in one's beliefs, though, that would take him places. Kuroi had an obvious protective quality to him by the way he talked about home, the manner in which he allowed his sister to cling to him so; father gone, the family shoes must be filled. Baki had to respect the raven-haired sixteen year old for that.

Baki turned his attention then to the young one, narrowing his eyes at the fragile figure. If he'd heard correctly, her name was Hitori. Hitori, the small child with the wide eyes and trembling shoulders. Her hair was the same color as her brother's, yet cascaded not in curls or lusciousness, but fell flatly over that shivering collar. Baki had overlooked the little thing for the most part; she hadn't said a thing. Her voice was meek and her skin pale, bones weak, and she had the faintest of breaths wavering in her lungs. It was obvious that the loss of her father had damaged the young girl in more ways than one. Baki grunted.

_She would not last long in Suna._

-o-

"Hurry up," muttered Baki as they neared the center of the village. At the heart sat a plump building with vein pathways extending outwards. A pulse of villagers and shinobi fluctuated to and fro. The air was stuffed with heat, causing the majority of the surrounding crowd to cough at odd intervals or tug awkwardly at their collars. Baki's pace quickened anxiously.

The two siblings were forced to keep up, and the little one huffed and puffed, thinking briefly of piggyback rides and her brother's shoulders. She hopped over rocks gently as he pulled her carefully along. Kuroi glanced down at her and grinned. "Having fun?"

She looked up at him slightly and shrugged. "The rocks are nicer at home."

Before Kuroi could reply, Baki cleared his throat and paused at an archway leading into the circular building. "The Kazekage Manor requires complete silence and respect. Follow silently and do not. disturb. a thing." His final words were full of venom and other such toxic things. His narrow eyes widened for a split second in warning. "_Do you understand_?"

Hitori shook her head violently up and down while Kuroi merely nodded and saluted half-heartedly.

The three ventured past the main secretary's desk quietly. The woman paused in tightening her already taut bun and bowed her head to Baki. As they proceeded down a finely cut hallway of sand, the siblings could still feel her eyes lingering on their backs.

The hall itself was rather narrow, but clean-kept and full of doors with placards of extremely straight placement. As they neared the end of the hall it turned slightly to the curve of the building, and as they walked they passed an open door and a man at a desk with very official robes and very straight posture; he turned his gaze from his papers and tea to the eyes of the two siblings who only looked for the split second they passed, yet still shot their heads forward in shame and fear when his vision met theirs. Hitori rung her hands around one another nervously as the doors turned to archways and the offices to meeting rooms _full_ of narrowed eyes. Even Kuroi, who had decided that he would become a rock of a man, found himself staring at the back of Baki's head for fear of meeting the gaze of any more.

The sound of a fist meeting the wood of a table in one of the meeting rooms shook the silence of the building's quiet murmuring. Kuroi's shoulders jolted at the sudden disturbance and Hitori jumped and squeaked. Baki hesitated in front of a door, glaring full throttle at someone inside. The man was not an official by the looks of his tattered garments, but the air of confidence about him and his fist on the table certainly meant he thought he was. Little porcelain cups once full of sake surrounded him and his flowing white hair, but as he noticed Baki standing in the doorway his angry brows receded and he shrunk silently back into his chair. Those at the table with him either coughed or cleared their throat and nodded thankfully to Baki for quelling the beast. Baki twitched before tearing his eyes away from the reckless shinobi and continuing down the hall as if nothing had happened.

The murmuring of meetings and shuffling of office papers returned.

Kuroi rubbed his nose awkwardly and glanced down at his sister with a raised brow. She returned the look. They both shrugged. Minor delay.

-o-

It was not long before they reached a room on about the third floor and the two siblings were asked to sit down and wait while Baki went hunting for the proper papers. The room was full of old filing cabinets and dusty bookshelves and even dustier, older air. Hitori wiggled her nose in an attempt to prevent a sneeze, and worried slightly if she'd ever find a patch of fresh air in this place called Suna.

"Choo!" It was a squeak, really.

"Bless you." Mere instinct, actually.

"Thank you." Just to be polite.

But the exchange of practiced words was the beginning of a bond between Hitori and Baki, one that neither really anticipated, but one that Baki had told himself when he agreed to take the children in that he would never allow himself to have. He glanced over his shoulder at the little girl and her dish plate eyes and bony fingers as she rubbed under her nose. It was an accident, really. Mere chance, actually. Just happened.

When Baki realized it was more than just a promise. When his eyes softened for a split second and he sighed to himself, knowing he needed these children just as much as they needed him.

"Did you find it?" Kuroi eyed their guardian cautiously from the table across the room.

Baki dusted himself off, pulled a handful of folders out of the drawer he'd been sorting through, closed it, and turned. "Yes," he replied.

Kuroi leant back slightly and raised a brow. "Alright, well," he began to say, "what exactly is it that you were _looking_ for?"

Baki strode silently over to the table and pulled up a chair, laying the folders out in an orderly manner. There were four of them, each equally manila in color and adorned with labels of the same ancient handwriting. One was labeled with Kuroi's name, one with Hitori's, one with Baki's, and one with the name of the village the two siblings had come from: Oashisu. Baki's was considerably larger than the nearly empty folders of Hitori and Kuroi, but paled in comparison to that of Oashisu. This one seemed to contain a number of smaller folders. Baki pulled two papers from Kuroi's, two from Hitori's, one from his, and one from deep within that of Oashisu's. "These," said Baki plainly. "I was looking for these."

Kuroi leant forward and peered at the papers. Hitori attempted to pull herself up to see, but proved too short for the table and eventually collapsed backwards with a huff and a pout. Baki nudged the Oashisu paper forward. "The deed to our house," said Kuroi in a daze, glaring down at the line which gave ownership to the Land of Wind.

Baki nodded. "Suna owns it currently, but as you can see there is a line for you to sign when you are eighteen or otherwise proved worthy of ownership."

Kuroi grunted. "_Proved worthy_? You have a funny way of doing things around here."

Baki narrowed his eyes. "Yes, proved worthy. As of now, your loyalty and maturity may be…questionable." Kuroi turned his head away and furrowed his brow. "I'd like to suggest that you join the forces. If you can prove to the Kazekage, the Council, or anyone of rank that you have what it takes to be a shinobi, you may be allowed to return home before your eighteenth birthday."

Kuroi scoffed. "_If I live that long_," he thought.

"_Fine_," he growled. "Give me a mission so we can go home."

Hitori curled up in her chair and rested her chin on her knees, not about to have any more of such words. It was a shinobi's life which kept her father away from her, and a shinobi who had taken him from her forever. As Kuroi reached out to comfort her, she pulled away, unaware that the only reason why he was doing this was for her.

Kuroi glared at Baki as if it was all his fault—as if it was his fault his sister was hurting, his fault his father was gone, his fault the world hated him.

Baki pushed a pen and one of Kuroi's papers forward. "Sign this. It's an application for late entry into the forces. I'm aware that your father trained you, but you'll be entered into a brief collection of classes for clarification and testing. You won't be given a mission for some time."

Kuroi hardly even looked at the paper before he signed his name off and shoved it back forcefully. "And those other papers?"

"These are just your files as of now," said Baki as he pushed two papers forward, one for Kuroi and one for Hitori, as well as one for hmself. "Basic information on birth dates, blood type, and any family information. For shinobi it has a great deal more information, as in mine, so yours will grow after your classes and with missions. I brought these to show you that my name has been added to both of yours as legal guardian, and on my files your names have been added."

Kuroi rubbed his brow in begrudging acceptance. "Alright, alright, I think we've established the fact that we're bunking with you now." He looked over at his sister and sighed. "What about that last paper? It came from Hitori's file."

Baki handed it over. "An application for the Academy."

"What?" the same flat tone he'd used when informed of home being taken away. "Tori's not going to be a kunoichi. It's too dangerous. Our parents agreed on it." He spoke so definitely.

Baki leant back and crossed his arms. "Children with a family history of chakra must attend the Academy. It is required by Suna law, and enforced by all. There is a way to remove the child from shinobi classes and allow them to remain only in basic reading, writing, arithmetic, history, and so on classes, but the process is long. It can take years before anyone will even get to the application." Baki's eyes rolled over to the little thing balled up in the chair and sighed. Suna law required it. Required that little girl to at least _try_. Expectations were that she at least _not_ fail.

Hitori looked up slightly, brows upturned and eyes cast pleadingly back and forth between her brother and Baki.

-o-

Kuroi took a breath and signed the paper.


End file.
